I hate to admit it but I’ve always believed in fairy tales. Unfortunately, over time, life has had a funny way of showing me that fairy tales may be best suited for the television screen. Nevertheless, after a failed relationship with my daughters father I still believed that the equally fabulous “single-mother me” could find true love (gags while typing). Yes, dating is hard, but I was ready.
So I met a guy and he was nice. He brought me flowers, and a polka dot shirt (don’t judge me). He opened doors and complimented me when I would get dressed, but I was mean to him. I wasn’t sure if I liked him or his gestures, after all, guys are always nice during the chase…right? Then I began to assess why I was so mean and I realized I was afraid. I was afraid of a fairy tale love. Although I liked the idea in theory, I felt that in reality it could never be, mainly because I wasn’t perfect.
I had baggage. I never felt that I was a bag lady before (I always purchase shoes over bags), but meeting him and seeing how perfect he was began to make me see how perfect I wasn’t. He had no children, a great job, and a wonderful sense of fashion. Yes, I questioned his sexuality at first, but after close examination I determined he was in fact 100 percent heterosexual.
How could I want, and constantly seek perfection from a spouse when I was flawed? I don’t regret my daughter, and he never made me feel like he had a problem with me having a child, but I realized the responsibility that he would be taking on if we became serious and it scared me straight out of my potential fairy tale. The thought of combinding my daughters life with another person who had the potential of failing us both was overwhelming and I quickly crumbled.
Eventually he became distant, maybe in response to my distance. Then I thought to myself, anyone not willing to fight for us isn’t right for us. Conclusion: I’m glad I waited to see if it was real. Maybe fairy tales do exist and I just haven’t found my prince yet.